


Confession

by ivars_heathen



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, NSFW explicit content, Strong Language, heavily detailed smut., mentions of past emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 11:10:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18715852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivars_heathen/pseuds/ivars_heathen
Summary: Modern AU. Reader has some intimacy issues and seeks some help.





	Confession

Oh no.

Not only had I overslept my alarm by a good ten and a half minutes but I also fought my way to reality through a very vivid dream. Grabbing my keys and purse hastily off their place by my front door before I ran to my car, noticing too late that I had spilled some toothpaste on my otherwise spotless sweatshirt and that it had started to sprinkle.

Great.

I didn’t mean to be late or to speed like a mad woman but here I was, weaving through traffic to get to my appointment. I was buzzed in and nearly fell through the door once it opened, catching myself and my breath as my therapist came into view through his office door.

“Ah, Y/N. Goodness, are you alright?”

“Sorry. Running late…didn’t want to be.” I panted, leaning against the door frame. I’d been late two times since I started seeing Dr. Ragnarsson once a week, he told me how important it was to be on time for life as well as scheduled appointments but thankfully didn’t seem too angry about it.

“Don’t worry about it, take your time and catch your breath. Here, sit down.” he guided me to the lone bench just outside his office doors, his cologne hanging around us like a fog. “ You’re my last client of the day anyhow and my favorite.”

“Hah. I bet you say that to all the girls.” I joked, my heart finally calming down to a reasonable pulse.

“Just my favorite ones. Feel better?” Ivar was quick to banter me back, making me feel comfortable with his quiet tone. He even graced me with a Cheshire grin.

“Didn’t want to disappoint you again, ya’ know? I know I’ve been late before and I know you how you feel about tardiness.”

“Tell you what, I won’t mark it down and forget all about it if you promise me one thing.” Ivar wagered. When I looked up at him he was still faintly smiling, looking exceptional in one of his many tailored suits. He never wore a tie with them and I found that oddly satisfying and clearly him.

“What?”

“Stop worrying and stop biting your lip. Come on in and tell me why you were late then we’ll go from there, deal?”

“Deal.” I took his outstretched hand and stood, noticing the way his long hair was tied up, a few loose pieces curling around his ears and shoulders. I made a point to myself as I followed him into his cozy office, not to mention that he was in my dreams.

….

Dr. Ivar was remarkable in many ways, looks aside of course. He spoke with so much poise and wisdom for someone his age, at times in our sessions my mind would drift to what in his life had made him so much wiser than his counterparts.

Was he damaged too? Had someone used his flaws against him, made him hurt. Was he like me? I’d find myself thinking about him randomly, as I stocked supplies in the back room at my job, while waiting for my food at the food truck outside said job. Dreaming about him was new though, he’d never showed himself there until last night.

Ivar had let me in just a little into what his life was like: the youngest of five sons, a rare but manageable bone disease that left him with a limp and on cold and rainy days, he’d need a one armed crutch for his aching limbs to rest on. He didn’t wear a wedding ring and I fought with myself to just ask him one day.

A friend of a friend had recommended him to me a few months prior after I told her the shit storm I’d been through that left me lonely and housebound because of it. I wasn’t physically beaten but emotionally was a whole other ball of wax.

Margrethe had gotten his cobalt blue business card and tucked it into my purse on a night after a few drinks at the local dive bar we frequented after work.

At first I didn’t know where to start. How do you just start talking about your life? I’d never seen or needed a therapist before, so coming in that first day was pretty daunting. Though being in this office, with its rich wood and smooth floors mad me feel at ease. It reminded me of another time and place, something forgotten but not lost.

This had been going on for months now, digging deeper and deeper into my life. The good, the fun and the bad until he straightened up in his leather chair last week, the gears creaking under his weight that made me look up from my spot on the couch.

I’d been in this position before but for some reason it felt different, like he

was luring me into expose the true reason I was one of his patients.

“You know I’m not here to judge you. Whatever you say in this room is completely private and confidential,” he started, setting down his bound journal on his tidy desk next to him before he sat forward, his elbows on his knees. “Hell, you could tell me killed someone and it’s against my code and honor to tell a soul. So tell me, Y/N, what’s the real reason you’re here? From the sound of it your childhood was good, you weren’t an outcast or weak.”

“I have my hang ups. Namely intimacy issues.” I admitted.

“Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t suppose I can smoke in your office. It’s kind of hard for me to talk about without getting anxious.” The more I thought about what I would say next already had my knees knocking. Get it together, you’ve said your piece how many times now? One more wouldn’t hurt so much this time around…

“If it will help you open up and feel more comfortable, which is what I want then by all means. Just stand by the window over there.”

Ivar was patient, letting me smoke quietly as I rested against the large pane. “I uh, my past for the most part is fine, normal at best without mentioning a few horrible relationships. The last guy I was with did a number one me and that’s putting it lightly.” I blew a plume of smoke out through a scoff, watching the way Ivar shifted in his chair, running his hand through his smooth hair. He told me to go on. “Oh he was charming alright, said all the right things, brought me lunch and flowers. It was too good to be true and I knew it, in the back of my mind I think I always did, I just didn’t want to believe it. I let my guard down.”

I stabbed my cigarette out, huffing as ill forgotten memories popped their way in like tiny bubbles. I didn’t like talking about it but I had hoped deep down that Dr. Ivar could be the one to possibly turn this shit around. Make it clear for me how to handle and engage myself in certain situations.

“That’s when the name calling started, then came the emotional battery and manipulation. He made me feel so horrible about myself, told me no one would love me more than him, that I was just property to whoever I laid with. After awhile I started to believe him, he’d talk about me like I wasn’t even there. I wanted to leave, trust me I tried but every time I packed and unpacked my bag he would reel me back in. I hated it, I hated him and myself for allowing him jar me the way he did. I can’t believe how stupid I am.”

“First of all you far from stupid,” Dr. Ivar creaked in his chair, moving his hair back over his shoulders like a tick, “Like you said you were manipulated, preyed upon by some narcissistic scumbag. It happens and that doesn’t make you any less of a person for it. You can spot the differences in yourself and others now can’t you? Unfortunately sometimes it takes more error than trial.”

“Tell me about it. I haven’t been with-” I stopped myself from exposing to my therapist that I hadn’t been intimate with anyone since. Instead I just looked out of the window, thanking myself for remembering to roll up my car windows as it was starting to rain.

“Active?”

I was hoping he wouldn’t ask that.

Ivar scoffed and whistled low. “He really fucked you up, huh?”

“You’re telling me! Wait a minute. Wha-why are you talking like that?” I spun on my heel, coinciding with a tremor of thunder. It dawned on me that he was a professional, keeping his vulgar, citizen language at bay.

“Because you’re been talking to me.”

“Wasn’t I always talking to you?”

Ivar stood then, dumping the ashtray that held more than just my one into the small trashcan before shutting the window. He had mentioned in an earlier session how he hated over-watered plants and protected his few on the sill. 

“You’ve been talking to Ivar the therapist, as of ten minutes ago you’ve been venting to civilian Ivar.”

“Civi-oh my God, why didn’t you stop me, tell me my time was up? I’ve probably ruined your night and wasted your time! I’m so sorry.”

“Nonsense. You could never waste my time, I’d be a pretty poor therapist to tell you so. I personally know how it feels to not know when to start talking or to stop once you get going, especially when it’s important.” he pointed, tying up his hair a little tighter that seemed to grow unruly throughout his day. “You clearly needed to get all of that out and I don’t blame you. What your ex did to you is inexcusable and salacious, to damage and manipulate you just because he could is callous. No wonder you’re wound so tight.”

“You know how it feels?”

“Of course. You’re not the only one who has felt this way. Listen Y/N, I took on this career for my own selfish reason. I’d never been a wordsmith, those things don’t come easy to me and if you knew my family you’d know why. Growing up as the runt of five and the product of an affair, didn’t bode too well as you can imagine.” he spoke with his hands, pointing to his legs. “Not to mention being born with a rare bone condition that could kill me at any given moment. Who wants to listen to poor little Ivar? I didn’t say too much growing up, just tried to stay out of the way and away from conflict, but no matter what I did it always seemed to find me. Learning the ins and outs of how to help people and myself learn to speak without boundaries was no easy ride, let me tell you.”

“That’s awful. I didn’t know.”

“Few people do. I don’t trust easy and my walls are constantly up.” Ivar stated bluntly, going to tidy or fidget or both with the papers on his desk. He sounded different with that admittance, vulnerable. “It may sound strange but it helps me read my patients better. I feel like I’m hearing them as much as they hear me because we are the same. I already know the walls are in place because I have several of my own.”

“Do you see a therapist too?”

My therapist barked out a fit of laughter, scribbling down my next appointment on one of his business cards that now decorated my refrigerator. “Gods no!”

….

Of course I didn’t plan to get sick over the weekend and well into the week. Dr. Ivar understood my NyQuil induced texts about it, responding short and curt. Though when my cold had lasted longer than expected, he’d stopped by the following week to my apartment. He wasn’t feeling too hot either it seemed, his usual gait slightly off and aided by his one armed crutch I’d always see by the front door of his office.

He thanked the Gods that I lived on the first floor, his legs surely would’t have gotten him very far if this was the speed he was at right now. He handed me a plastic bag of Styrofoam containers, mumbling that maybe on days like these he would prefer house calls.

The savory food cleared my sinuses as we ate, I even had just enough of a voice left to joke that he only stopped by his favorites residences. He smiled at my banter and shoved a piece of food into his mouth.

….

A few much healthier weeks later, I couldn’t help but hang my jaw at what I’d just heard. I had heard that correctly, right?

“What?”

“I said green is definitely your color.” He was somehow referring to the deep colored dress I wore a few nights ago but…

Ivar set his journal down across from me, the thick backing bouncing with a thud as he shot me smile. “That homework assignment I gave you,” Ivar told me to take myself out on a date, take some time to get to know myself again. Sans shit talking ex-boyfriend. “Apparently lead you to Floki’s Steakhouse.” Ivar laughed at how wide my eyes got. “Don’t worry Y/N, I’m not stalking you. I personally know the owner, helped guide me in my career actually. I just happened to look over and see you. How did it go?”

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought.” I blushed picturing what he must’ve looked like outside of his office. Did he go there after work? Was he in street clothes? I was proud of myself for not blurting out loud that I had lingerie in that exact color of emerald. He said I should make it a routine, something I do to get out of my thoughts, to treat myself. I believed and trusted him so far, nothing bad had happened yet.

Other then the high school crush forming at a rapid pace.

I’d never seen eyes that blue or full of intellect. Clearly I didn’t know how to pick my partners. Though it was his job to listen, there was something more. Something more genuine, like I’d been really heard for the first time.

I knew it was a silly thing to do, think of him, a professional in that way. Either way I was about to be in trouble. Over the last few sessions I’d noticed those blue death traps flick over my mouth before talking to me. The way he’d smile a little harder when I laughed. It was distracting and made for quick wrist work as I thought about him at night.

I honestly didn’t feel like being touched until now and that raised all kinds of flags. I better get this in control before-what did he say?

“You’re not listening.” Ivar sighed.

I bit my tongue, there was no point in lying. “I’m sorry. I’m just-”

“Please share,” Ivar creaked back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head after extending them outward, exaggerating his new position by crossing his ankles. His hoodie moved up just for a peek of his stomach. I must’ve been lost in my thoughts longer than I thought as I realized Ivar was not in one of his suits. “It’s obviously something that has been on your mind, it must be terribly important.”

Uh oh.

“Uh, I’m not sure how to answer that.” I answered truthfully, picking off the tiniest of tiniest piece of lint off my leggings.

“Just say it.”

I swallowed hard and regretted opening my mouth instantly. “You.”

Dr. Ivar raised his eyebrows, looking me over. “What about me?” His question was more curious than prying.

“Your um, your eyes.” I didn’t look up at him again, admitting it out loud was both dangerous and filled me with embarrassment.

“What about them?”

Oh this was getting out of hand and I couldn’t shut my mouth fast enough. “They light up your face in a way that makes me feel comfortable and I’ve honestly never seen a shade so fitting. It’s nice to see you listening as well as hearing me out. I don’t know how many more sessions we have together and I guess I thought you should know.”

I kicked myself for vomiting all that out, I didn’t necessary want to out myself to my therapist after all but the silence in his office was killing me.

Fuck, I should have just lied…

Dr. Ragnarsson nodded, sitting up and opening his planner on his desk. He made a face at it and scratched something on it before grabbing one of his business cards. He did all this without a word until he stood, limping his was around the coffee table littered with small souvenirs of where he’d traveled and a small box of tissues.

He looked down at me, holding out the card. “I’m letting you go.”

My heart dropped. I ruined everything! “W-what?”

“I’m letting you go,” Ivar picked up my hand in his warm one, shoving the last card I’d ever get from him in my palm. “I know where this is going-”

“But I-I don’t want stop seeing you.”

“You’re not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Move over,” Ivar shooed me down the couch, sitting down next to me as I gripped the card a little too tightly when his thigh touched mine. “I can’t keep seeing you once a week. What I’m about to say and possibly do is completely unprofessional of me but seeing as I just signed your release forms this morning when I pep talked myself into it, you’re no longer my patient.”

“But why?”

“You know why,” Ivar titled his head, smoothing back his low hanging hair with a sigh. “I’m not the only one who felt that spark when I sat down, am I?” I shook my head and relaxed into the couch. “Thought so. I thought I could keep what I felt about you separate, business and pleasure if you will but the lines started to blur after seeing you in that beautiful dress. I started thinking about you on our days apart, mundane things too,” he admitted, running his hand through his hair which I had concrete evidence that it was in fact a nervous tick. “It got to be too difficult last week when all I could think about was how soft your hair would feel. How you would feel.”

“Oh.”

“I told you I’m no wordsmith Y/N,” Ivar chuckled anxiously, tugging at his jeans. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” I set the card down and moved to sit facing him, “I’ve been feeling the same way. I haven’t wanted to be with someone since…well you know. It didn’t feel right, you know? It felt out of place and I let it go. I can take care of myself.”

Ivar laughed at that, nodding along with my truth.

Ivars smile faded into a look I didn’t want to forget. “I’d love to take care of you.”

I snorted. “You want to do this in your office?”

“What do you think we’re going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh yes you do,” Ivar shook his hair back, sitting up a straighter as I mimicked his pose. “You’ve been working on it in your head. You know what you want and don’t want, you’re a lot stronger and confident than you were last week, hell last month! If you know what you want, just say it.”

I weighed my options carefully and asked for the one thing, the one I’d dreamt about when I first started coming to see him. I smiled and asked for a kiss.

….

Ivar gave me plenty. Slow and patient ones, harsh and tongue filled ones, followed by a cool down of pecks and hair tucking behind my ears.

“Better than I thought.” I breathed out, my eyes dilated and heavy, my mouth felt bruised but satisfied.

“I agree,” Ivar hummed, rubbing the tip of his smooth nose against my own, “We should probably get out of here, hmm?”

“And go where?”

Ivar smirked fiercely as he grabbed my hand in the waiting area. “I’ve never been more thankful than to live above my practice as I am right now.”

I couldn’t help but grin back, letting him lead us to a hidden staircase at the end of the hallway. We barely made it through his front door fully clothed, they littered his carpet leading into his bedroom.

I could tell he sensed I was anxious, his movements slowing down as his hands roamed over my skin.

“Are you ok?” he asked against my lips, his hands stopping instantly. “Is this too much? You tell me, understand? We don’t have to do any more than this, I'm not going to push or pressure you into anything, ok?”

“I know,” I breathed and laid my leg over his hip, “It’s just been awhile.”

“Understandable,” Ivar kissed my forehead and winked, “How about I get you off first and we’ll go from there. Like I said, if it’s too much right now we’ll stop.”

“Where do you want me?” I smiled beamed when Ivar rolled onto his back and tapped his chin slowly, curling the finger at the same pace as I crawled over him.

….

I was a panting mess after the first lick, it wouldn’t take long for me at his rate. Ivar made me feel safe and wanted, praising me in between those sloppy kisses he laid over my clit or when he opened his jaw wider to work over my entrance with his tongue and lips..

I gripped his hair in my hands, swiveling my hips in small circles.

“That’s right, sweetness,” Ivar groaned, releasing one of my thighs to snake up to my breasts, grabbing one in his hand. I squealed at the light way his fingers felt on my skin and again when he pinched the nipple. “You ride my fucking mouth. Get yourself good and wet for me, I’m not stopping until these legs give out. Put my mouth where you need it, baby.”

My legs shook and my hold tightened as I leaned back enough for him to lap at my leaking pussy like it meant the world to him. This angle felt even better, holding his head steady as I moved against him.

“Right there, d-don’t stop.” I shut my eyes tight, my orgasm approaching fiendishly. “Ivar I-”

My mouth fell open with a drawn out moan as I came, whining above his sturdy chin and still moving mouth. He kissed my thighs and moved to grab my other breast, my body still jerking a little Ivar laughed against my leg.

“You needed that one,” Ivar moved his hand to rub my arousal around my clit with his thumb, “I think you need one more. One more for my favorite girl.”

I didn’t get a chance to still his ministrations and I was surprised I still had use of my legs when Ivar spread my legs a wider with his other hand.

I screamed his name, feeling myself cum again fast was not something I was used to but if he could keep this up, this tryst was more than worth it.

Smugly satisfied and rightfully so, Ivar slid up between my legs, pumping his cock beneath me, tapping my ass with it. “Are you sure?” Ivar smiled shakily before lining himself up, “Are you ready for me? You’re still so fucking wet…I’m all yours, Y/N.”

Ivar was definitely right. I was incredibly wet and my pussy swallowed him in one steady thrust. I cried into his neck, holding on to him as he sat up against me.

He held onto my hips, pulling me up only to crush me back down.

I gasped when he did it again, harder. “Oh you like that huh? yeah you do. You feel so good on my cock, sweetness. So fucking good.”

I couldn’t form any words other than his name as he fucked up into me, chasing his own release. When I dug my nails into his shoulders Ivar moaned loudly, I cupped his face then, rocking my hips with his when Ivar turned and licked my thumb.

I could feel Ivar getting close, moaning out that I was right there with him. He grunted at me to cum, to let him make me feel good. I moved his hands to cover my breasts, bearing down on his spearing cock as another illicit wave started to unravel.

“You like this too?” My scream of “Yes!” bounced off the walls as Ivar panted, rolling them around in his large palms, his blown out eyes glinting with a need of his own and mine when he thumbed over my nipples. “You are fucking perfect. You’re gonna cum for me, right? Make me feel you. This is so much better than I thought, you fit me like a fucking glove.”

“Oh fuck Ivar, keep talking!” His open vulgarness worked for the both of us. He ducked his head, taking one of my nipples into his hot mouth. He grinned against my breast, thrusting up harshly.

“Whatever you want, Y/N. I’ll give you whatever you want,” Ivar nipped my sensitive skin, licking up the side of my neck to kiss me fervently. I could taste the sweat from his lip and a little of myself as I slipped my tongue into his mouth.

“I’m gonna cum,” I whimpered, my legs were on the verge of liquefying as he dragged me up and down his cock. “I can’t wait. I can’t-”

“’Fuck are you waiting for? Cum for me, let go baby. Let me feel you on my-”

“Ivar!” I slumped over his shoulder, unwinding as he fucked me through my orgasm. He groaned my name, biting into my shoulder before he pulled cock out between us, fucking his fist until he came all over my leg and his stomach.

“Wow.” I panted, grabbing a random piece of clothing off the side of the bed to clean us up.

“You’re incredible, come here.” Ivar snuggled the top of my head with his chin. “Having you like this is…you feel the same?”

“I do.” I titled my head up for a kiss, our lips practically numb and swollen. “Just wish we didn’t wait so long.”

“Don’t worry Y/N, the timing was right just not the circumstance. Besides, there’s a few ways we can make up for it.”


End file.
